


Mending (in the Mountains, with Monkeys)

by khalulu



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: China, Friendship/Love, Gen, Healing, Monkeys, Monks, Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-21
Updated: 2017-05-21
Packaged: 2018-11-02 19:41:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10951398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/khalulu/pseuds/khalulu
Summary: Well along on the road to healing, Harry and Draco do some sight-seeing in Sichuan, amidst the monks and monkeys.





	Mending (in the Mountains, with Monkeys)

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Broken](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4580265) by [lyonessheart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyonessheart/pseuds/lyonessheart). 



> Like lyonessheart’s fic “Broken” to which this is a sequel, this is a friendship story between Harry and Draco which hints at more in future. Given their recent past as healer and patient, I thought it best not to rush into things. I leave it to the reader to imagine, if you like, the boys going on to monkey around with each other, make “is that a banana in your pocket or are you just glad to see me” jokes, or skinny-dip with snow monkeys in the hot springs of Hokkaido.
> 
> Many thanks to lyonessheart for letting me add to your poignant and hopeful story – you left such a beautiful opening for a sequel. I hope you enjoy the journey they take here! (I'm sorry I couldn't fit Tilly in, but be sure Draco will bring her a souvenir.) And many thanks to the gracious and fabulous mods for putting up with my tardiness. Thanks also to my beta S. for speedy work.

“We’re monkeys,” Harry announced.

“Speak for yourself,” said Draco, not looking up from his book on magical flora of East Asia.

“Nope, you’re a monkey too.” 

Draco glanced at his friend, who was sprawled out on Draco’s couch with his feet up, reading. A toe was poking out of one sock. 

“If you’re referring to evolutionary theory, I’ve been assured that isn’t what it means at all.”

Harry looked over at him with a laugh. “Where did you hear about evolution?”

“My trip to South America for potions research. There was an American Muggle scientist who kept going on about _The Voyage of the Beagle_. At first I thought she meant a story about an adventurous small dog, but it turns out to be someone named Darwin who got all excited about finches. They had self-transfiguring beaks, or something.”

Harry just grinned. 

“Now tell me why you’re a monkey,” Draco said.

“ _We_ were born in 1980. This guidebook to China talks about the Chinese zodiac, and that’s the Year of the Monkey. It’s not a bad thing. People born in a Monkey year are known to be highly intelligent.” 

Draco thought dubiously of various Hogwarts classmates born the same year – Vince, or the once silly, pretty Lavender Brown. He had no wish to speak ill of the dead – whom he had so recently tried to join – or of the scarred and determined survivors, but.… “If we're all so clever, how our professors must have rejoiced, when a whole troop of us entered school at once.”

Harry snorted. “I guess Professor Snape didn’t believe in the Chinese zodiac. Healer Highgroove doesn’t seem to either. Still treating me like an idiot.”

“Never mind him. You’ll be finished with that internship soon, right? Meanwhile, you’ll get to escape him for a bit of holiday. So where in China would you like us to go?”

“Sichuan, maybe? It could be a good place to compare meditation and healing techniques. According to the book, there’s a mountain sacred to Buddhism there and another one sacred to Taoism. And” - Harry grinned again, which lit up his face distractingly – “a giant Buddha carved right out of the face of a cliff, how cool is that?”

“Hmm,” Draco said. “I could do research there myself; Sichuan has some specimens of magical bamboo that grow nowhere else. But isn’t the food there blisteringly spicy?”

“Maybe we should find a Sichuan restaurant in London and practice before we go.”

One could always count on Harry to be ready to eat, so they discussed their travel plans further over Kung Pao chicken, 5-spice green beans and “fish-fragrant” eggplant – which was not fishy at all, but garlicky and delicious.

₢⦿͡ ˒̫̮ ⦿͡ꀣ

“Humming in the staff room? Someone’s in a good mood,” Myra teased Harry during their break at St. Mungo’s. “There’s nothing like looking forward to a holiday with someone you fancy, is there?”

“I don’t – that is – it’s not about _fancying_ him. We’re friends. And it’s a research trip, at least partly….”

“Who says you can’t fancy your friends?”

“He was my patient, though.”

“How long ago was that, about a year and a half?”

“Yeah,” Harry said. He’d spent a few months in France as Draco’s mind-healer, while Draco climbed back out of despair and an overwhelming sense of failure. And though that time had cost Harry his engagement to Ginny, he thought that was for the best. Ginny had seemed happier afterwards, returning to her Quidditch career, and Harry had emerged feeling lighter too. 

“Well,” Myra said, “the wizarding world is a small one. We’re likely to play more than one role in each other’s lives at some point.”

That was true enough, Harry conceded. “I think Draco and I are at about a half-dozen roles already. Let’s hope travel companion is one of the good ones.”

₢⦿͡ ˒̫̮ ⦿͡ꀣ

“Does that book say much about the Sichuan panda sanctuary?” Draco asked. “That should be a good place to look for magical bamboo.”

“Nope, no pandas in this one. Lots of demons in disguise, though,” Harry said.

“Demons? No pandas? What kind of book are you reading, anyway?”

_”Journey to the West.”_

“China is to the east, Harry. Unless you’re planning on going the very long way round.”

“No, that’s the title. It’s one of the classics of Chinese literature.”

“Since when are you interested in literary classics?”

“It’s about four travelers who go to India to bring the first Buddhist scriptures back with them to China. So it’s kind of related to meditation.”

Draco gave him a skeptical look. “And demons in disguise.”

Harry grinned. “Yeah, and they only make it past all the demons because of Sun Wu Kong, the splendid Monkey King! He has amazing super-powers for fighting evil. And he’s very good at spotting demons, which is crucial because the monk he’s traveling with is virtuous but kind of dim-witted.”

“You just have monkeys on the brain.”

“Sun Wu Kong is a Chinese cultural hero, I tell you. And we are his spiritual kin.”

Draco couldn’t help a smile. “Speak for yourself, splendid monkey king.”

“Eep! Eep!” said Harry.

₢⦿͡ ˒̫̮ ⦿͡ꀣ

They took an international portkey to Beijing. The arrival time was late in the day, so they stayed overnight and saw a show, a Beijing Opera performance about the Monkey King.

“I told you he was a Chinese cultural hero,” said Harry. “Those acrobatics in the fight scenes were amazing.”

“That was opera? My ears hurt,” said Draco. “All that percussion. Those gongs.”

“It was dramatic! And they sang sometimes.”

“That was even worse. I did like the costumes, though. The plumes on that one headdress must have been a yard long.”

Next morning they took a domestic portkey to Chengdu, the provincial capital of Sichuan, where they explored the bamboo forest along the river at Wangjiang Pavilion Park. Draco met with the resident wizarding guide (who fortunately spoke fairly good English) to learn more about the magical varieties that grew among the more than 150 types of bamboo there. 

Meanwhile Harry drank green tea in one of the open air teahouses, nibbled sunflower seeds, bought a carved wooden mask with wild bamboo-root hair for Teddy, and watched an old man practicing calligraphy on the pavement with a very large brush and a pail of water. The artist fitted his large, elegant, confident characters to the rectangular gray paving stones, where they gleamed and gradually faded away. 

Harry wondered what the writing said. Perhaps it was verse by the poet Xue Tao, who had lived here more than 1000 years ago; the park was created in her honor.

When Draco returned they made plans to visit Qing Cheng Shan, the sacred Taoist mountain. Next day they passed between stone statues of guardian lions (which looked nothing like any lion Harry had ever seen) to reach an ancient structure with arched entrances, gilded calligraphy, and a tiered, tiled roof elaborately decorated with carvings and painted figurines. The edges of the roof curved up like wings. It was the gateway to the mountain.

Qing Cheng Shan was, as promised by its name, very green, frothy with leafy trees, and misty. Harry and Draco gazed at a large and splendid temple with statues of many different gods and immortals. Red hangings festooned the place and clouds of smoke rose from incense sticks. As they climbed on they saw many smaller temples, some by the path and some secluded in the trees. 

Much of the path consisted of narrow, irregular stone steps. Harry paused to catch his breath after yet another set of them, and shook his head at a pair of carriers offering to take him up in a chair slung between two poles. “Do I look that helpless?” he asked Draco.

“They’re just looking for tourist business,” Draco said. 

A young Taoist monk passed them on the way up the mountain, black robes swinging with his jaunty strides. His long dark hair was twisted up into an elegant top-knot above his narrow, vivid, serenely confident face. Vitality seemed to radiate from him. 

Harry and Draco both gaped. Harry thought the monk shot them a knowing smile.

“Well,” said Draco. “If it’s meditation that put such a spring in his step, maybe I should learn it.”

“Mmm,” said Harry. “Do you think he takes disciples?”

“Do Taoist monks have to take a vow of celibacy?”

“I don’t know.”

“I wonder if that hairstyle would ever catch on in England.”

“You could try it. Start a trend,” Harry said. 

Draco huffed a laugh and they began walking the tree-lined path again, now and then catching views of nearby slopes, small lakes, or shrines. They stopped at the top to eat and admire the view, and then headed back down.

A haunting melody drifted past. It spoke to something in Harry, bittersweet and yearning. The musician appeared, coming towards them, playing a long vertical bamboo flute. He was a vendor, carrying others for sale, and Harry bought one.

That night, after a dinner of Sichuan dumplings in spicy sauce, he spent half an hour blowing into the flute without getting more than a couple of squawks of sound. At least it looked nice. In time, maybe he could coax music from it.

₢⦿͡ ˒̫̮ ⦿͡ꀣ

Back in bustling Chengdu they ate a variety of interesting things: delicious fish, fragrant and slightly rubbery fresh lichee fruit, fried green onion pancakes, refreshingly crunchy water chestnuts, shiny red candied hawthorn fruits on a stick, and a dish memorable mostly for the startling properties of Sichuan “tongue-numbing” pepper. Then they left to see the giant Buddha at Leshan, making the final approach by boat.

The towering Buddha sat as if on a straight chair, his hands resting on his knees, his feet planted on the ground, gazing impassively out over the river. The top of his head was level with the top of the cliff, and his feet rested 71 meters below, not far above the water. He was carved in high relief right out of the red-brown land itself, his face worn by the weather of more than a thousand years.

There was nothing elegant or elaborate about him. He was plain, straightforward, and awe-inspiring. 

“Even if they had wizarding help, that must have taken ages to carve,” Draco said. “Why here, I wonder?”

“The way the rivers came together in this spot made whirlpools, and a lot of boats were lost,” Harry told him. “They wanted the Buddha to calm the waters. It worked.”

“Is that fungus growing on his chest?”

“Don’t be rude about the Buddha!”

“I’m not,” Draco said. “Chinese medicine uses fungus that’s famous for its healing properties. Perhaps that is the Numinous Mushroom.”

“I’d be happy never to have to eat another mushroom again,” Harry said. “I had enough of them in the Forest of Dean to last me a lifetime.”

Draco paused to think that through. “Is that where the Snatchers found you? The Forest of Dean?” he asked quietly.

Harry nodded, looking at the Buddha.

So that is what Harry had been doing – camping in the woods, on the run, hungry – the year the Dark Lord had taken over Malfoy Manor. That year of fear and _Crucio_ , when Draco had been hexed until he was left unable to father children. 

If Draco had understood then that he’d never sire an heir, he could have been spared the humiliation of his failed marriage to Astoria. 

But that was water under the bridge now. When Draco had cried out, after his suicide attempt, that Harry Potter would understand, he’d meant that Potter had witnessed enough of Draco’s mistakes and failures to know the world would be better off without him. But Harry understood something else instead – how it felt to be isolated, scorned, burdened by expectations you doubted you could ever meet. Talking with him, Draco had found a path out of the darkness.

And now here they were, on a little boat in the middle of China, sailing up to a statue of Buddha so enormous….

“They say four people could sit on his big toe-nail and play cards,” said Harry.

Draco smiled, imagining bringing Teddy for a game of Exploding Snap. He needed to find a souvenir for Teddy. No more exotic pets, Andromeda said. 

“Do you think Teddy would like a dragon kite?” he asked Harry.

₢⦿͡ ˒̫̮ ⦿͡ꀣ

Emei Shan, the mountain sacred to Buddhism, was near the Leshan Buddha. It would be a three day walk around the mountain, staying overnight at one of the many monasteries. Harry and Draco woke up early and had breakfast at the guesthouse by the entrance, thin rice porridge with long stick-like doughnut twists and green tea.

They were ready to head out at dawn, but stopped to help a short smiling monk who was trying to replace a light bulb just out of reach overhead in a hallway. Draco had the longest arms. “Just screw it in clockwise,” Harry told him, and Draco looked gratified when the bulb lit up under his hand. The monk nodded his shaven head in thanks.

“I think the Taoist monks get the better hairstyle,” said Draco as they headed up the mountain behind a group of elderly women pilgrims, who were swinging their walking sticks with gusto and chatting cheerfully in Chinese.

“That’s just your worldly vanity speaking,” Harry said.

“Guilty as charged.” 

It was another steep green mountain, dotted with curly-roofed shrines and temples where pink joss sticks sent up clouds of fragrant incense, although the statues inside were different from the Taoist ones. Birds sang in the trees as they hiked up endless stone steps. Draco kept stopping to look at plants, many of which grew nowhere else. 

In late afternoon they stopped at a large temple with a guesthouse and sat outside in a courtyard with other travelers, to rest before dinner. A large monkey approached, moving from one guest to another, begging. Some fed it snacks, some shook sticks at it, some did both. 

“Is this why you really wanted to come here?” Draco asked.

“Mount Emei is famous for its monkeys. They’re Tibetan macaques. They’ve been known to throw people’s cameras down ravines if they don’t get what they want.”

“So what’s your plan – snacks, or sticks?”

“Neither. I will be mellow with the monkey, and the monkey will be mellow with me.”

Draco snorted. “Let’s hope.”

Just then the harassed but determined monkey jumped up next to Harry and tugged his sleeve. 

“Hello,” said Harry gently. “I don’t have any food for you, but it’s good to meet you.”

The monkey looked at him and then at all the other people holding out food and shaking sticks. It sat next to Harry in silence for a moment, and slipped its hand into Harry’s. Then it jumped down and away. 

Harry gazed at his hand, open-mouthed.

The food at the monastery guesthouse was simple and the rice was oddly crunchy from being cooked at high altitude, but otherwise the place was comfortable enough in a spartan way. 

Next morning they continued the steep climb and finally reached the peak, with views down into the “Sea of Clouds”. They rested a while and then walked on, finally stopping for the night at a tiny monastery. 

A friendly monk woke them up next morning while it was still dark so that they could attend the prayers. Harry stood there sleepily, not really understanding anything, and tried not to do anything out of place.

Afterwards he said to Draco, “It was daft of me, wasn’t it, to think that in two weeks I could learn anything about the meditation practices of two religions I don’t know, in a language I don’t speak.”

“Think of it as preliminary research,” Draco said. “A scouting trip. Even if this is mostly a holiday, you deserve one.”

“When did you get to be so encouraging, Draco Malfoy?”

“I must have picked it up from this mind-healer I had once. Still in training, but he was the best.”

Harry flushed.

After breakfast Harry could not resist trying to throw peanuts to some extraordinarily cute baby monkeys in the trees just a few yards away, but each time a larger monkey would appear and snatch the food away.

It was warmer at the lower elevation and Harry decided to hike in shorts. They were almost at the end of the hike. Draco stopped to look at another rare plant, telling Harry he would catch up. As he walked, Harry ate the last of his snacks to lighten his pack.

He came in sight of a narrow bridge. There was a sign, “Beware of Monkeys.” Harry saw a group of tourists cross, snacks and sticks out as the monkeys approached. He tightened the straps on his pack so the animals couldn’t tear it off, and headed to the bridge by himself.

A group of monkeys sat on the bridge. Harry walked out to meet them. A large macaque blocked his way.

“Hello,” Harry said. 

The monkeys made demanding noises. 

“I don’t have any food left,” Harry said, “but it’s nice to meet you.” 

The monkeys did not find that an acceptable answer. One showed his teeth.

“I don’t have anything,” Harry repeated. Perhaps zipping his wand inside his pack had not been the wisest move. 

The monkey placed its teeth carefully around Harry’s bare calf. It cocked its head and stared at him. The message was clear.

“Really, even if I wanted to, I couldn’t give you any food. It’s all gone.”

The monkey kept staring at Harry with its teeth pressed lightly against his skin.

Finally Harry grew tired of the impasse. He wasn’t about to stand there all day, so he shrugged his shoulders, lifted his leg, and stepped forward. The monkey dropped off. Another one took a flying leap at Harry’s pack, but it was securely buckled on, and then he was walking across the bridge to the other side.

He heard a cry from behind him. Draco was crossing the bridge, trying to slide through a group of travelers to reach him.

“Come here.” Draco tugged Harry away from the path, sat him near some trees and cast a quick notice-me-not spell around them, followed by several cleaning spells for Harry’s leg. He pulled out a vial of ointment and crouched to rub it on Harry’s calf. His fingers were warm and deft. 

“So much for being mellow with the monkeys,” Draco muttered. “That little thug almost bit you. Harry Potter, mugged by a monkey.” 

“He didn’t break the skin.”

“Good thing, I don’t want to lose you to monkey-bite fever. If that beast is your kin, he doesn’t seem to know it.”

“People fight with each other too,” said Harry. 

“You’re too forgiving.”

“Am I?”

Draco paused. “No.” He raised his eyes to Harry’s. They were full of an emotion Harry couldn’t name.

“There’s something in your hair,” Draco murmured. His fingers moved lightly across Harry’s head, then briefly grazed his cheek.

A deep sweet warmth bloomed in Harry. _You, it’s you,_ sang a little voice inside him as he gazed at Draco. He recognized that feeling, from old dreams of being caressed and cared for.

“There’s something in your hair too,” he said.

“What?” Draco asked.

“Sunbeams,” said Harry, reaching to let a few bright smooth strands slip through his fingers.

Draco’s mouth fell open. “Are you sure you’re alright?” he said finally, with a slight flush.

“I am very very fine,” said Harry, springing up and pulling Draco to his feet. “Come.”

With laughter bubbling up between them, they headed down the trail, hand in hand.

_The clouds are thin the wind is light the sun is nearly overhead_  
_past the flowers through the willows down along the stream_  
_people don’t see the joy in my heart_  
_they think I’m wasting time or acting like a child_

**Author's Note:**

> The ubiquitous monkeys are not intended as Buddhist allegory, but Mingyur Rinpoche did say "we have to make friends with the monkey mind."
> 
> The poem at the end of the story is “Casual Poem on a Spring Day” by Cheng Hao (1032-1085), translated by Red Pine in “Poems of the Masters”.
> 
> The places they visit are all real, as are most of the things they see. (I can't vouch for the magical bamboo, but there is a Numinous Mushroom.) Here are links to pictures of some of the things and places mentioned:
> 
>   * [old video of Beijing Opera Monkey King scene](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lcIHJzqE96A) and some other [Sun Wu Kong](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/75/f1/05/75f105e7cd1a293e37f9c65c930cb701.jpg)/[Monkey King photos](http://www.greatpix.com/tobey/edit/body_monkey.html)
>   * [Wangjianglou Bamboo Park](http://www.visitourchina.com/FileUpload/FileUpload/110727162714843.jpg), [Old man practicing calligraphy there](https://www.pinterest.se/pin/140807925819633572/), and [poems of Xue Tao](http://tangshi.tuxfamily.org/xuetao/). 
>   * [Entrance gate to Qing Cheng Shan](https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/e/e3/%E9%9D%92%E5%9F%8E%E5%B1%B1.jpg), [Qing Cheng Shan Taoist temple with statue](https://www.flickr.com/photos/tidsrom/1529278237/in/photostream/), [ misty scene of back mountain (Hou Shan) at Qing Cheng Shan](https://www.flickr.com/photos/tidsrom/1530156166/in/photostream/), [young Taoist monk](http://www.mila-photography.com/keyword/taoist%20monk/) (though not from Qing Cheng Shan) 
>   * The long vertical bamboo flute from Qing Cheng Shan is called a xiao; you can [hear it here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=elkEHPf4lkA). 
>   * [Candied Hawthorn Fruit on a stick](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/20/46/63/204663c51167e5e59ca8a1e76ff4324f.jpg) (yum!) and [Lingzhi (Numinous) Mushroom](https://mushroomsworld.files.wordpress.com/2012/03/linhzhi-ganoderma-lucidum_mushroomsworld.jpg)
>   * [Leshan Giant Buddha](https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/3/38/Leshan_Buddha_Statue_View.JPG)
>   * [Macaque monkey at Emei Shan](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mount_Emei#/media/File:MacaqueEmeishan.jpg), [wooden bridge at Emei Shan](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mount_Emei#/media/File:CrystalStreamOverpass2.jpg), [cloudy peaks at Emei Shan](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mount_Emei#/media/File:Mount_Emei_pic_1.jpg), [Buddhist monk at Emei Shan](https://www.terragalleria.com/asia/china/emei-shan/picture.chin5184.html), [Crouching Tiger monastery at Emei Shan](http://homes.chass.utoronto.ca/~grcook/china/090.jpg), and [Map of Emei Shan](https://www.travelchinaguide.com/images/map/sichuan/mt-emei.jpg)
> 

> 
> * * *
> 
> [Fic headers](http://hd-remix.tumblr.com/post/160910999819/remix-for-lyonessheart-mending-in-the-mountains) and a [pull quote](http://hd-remix.tumblr.com/post/160913146940/humming-in-the-staff-room-someones-in-a-good) have been cross-posted to tumblr. Help us promote the fest by liking and reblogging!


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